Think Twice
by EternalStarfire
Summary: Harry is protective of Hermione. Draco is overly curious about her. When Hermione and Draco decide to be potions partners, romance forms between Draco and Hermione, forcing Harry to take jealousy to extremes.HG/DM. HG/HP.
1. The Inside Job

**Author's Note:** This is a Harry/Hermione/Draco love triangle. There aren't enough of them out there. I do not own Harry Potter.

**Harry**

Harry wished Draco Malfoy would quit glancing over to the Gryffendor table with looks that could only be described as less than appropriate. He could only imagine what kind of torture he was probably planning to inflict on any one of his favorite targets, but he swore that if he annoyed Hermione one more time this week, he would remind him of what it feels like to be the small, furry ferret he really was. Maybe he'd drop him down Crabbe's pants, or, better yet, he'd pointedly mess up the spell and leave Malfoy harrier than he probably would like to be. Harry couldn't suppress a chuckle at the thought of Malfoy's face covered in thick, curly hair, and glanced at Ron meaningfully. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Come on Harry, you know Malfoy's a git in pants. He wont bother us today, we've got potions and you know he loves to suck up to Snape. His attention will be on his cauldron." Ron nudged Ginny, who'd heard Harry and Ron chuckle and had turned around interestedly.

"Still, he makes a good ferret," Harry complained with a smirk. Ginny laughed, finally bringing Hermione out of her bookish reverie. She looked up from Hogwarts: A History with a sigh. Harry changed course. "How many times have you actually in read that, 'Mione?" She smiled again, closing the worn book.

"Oh, you know Harry, at least a hundred. Im trying for a thousand. To have it memorized, you know, just in case."

Ron laughed. "Nice, Hermione. In case of what? We're in a battle and have to find the perfect room in which to hide and lose a Deatheater?" His voice was light, but the tone of the conversation was markedly more somber. Neville's smile faultered, and Ginny twisted uncomfortably in her seat. Hermione frowned at Ron and shook her head.

"Actually, Ron, that's precisely what I was thinking. In case they ever attack here again, we have to be at least a bit more aware of our surroundings than they'll be." Her voice lowered, and leaned in. "Havent you noticed our ranks are floundering out? Lots of students are gone, and we lose a few a month. Its basically us, a few Ravenclaws and almost all of Slytherin. Hufflepuff has been emptied except for Ernie, and how many other Muggle-borns have you seen lately?" Harry nodded gravely. She was entirely correct, looking down the table, there were no more than ten Gryffendors left, and what was left of the Hufflepuffs had moved to the Ravenclaw table. The school was being deserted, and without Dumbledore, hardly anyone felt sure they were safe at Hogwarts anymore. However, even the Slytherin's ranks were way low, the weaker, younger, and more afraid families had kept their children home, where they thought they were safer. Only Harry, Hermione and Ron were so acutely aware of the fact that this was not true. Those who were at home were easier to pick out.

"Hermione's right, Ron. No one's here."

"Well mum and dad aren't letting us come home. They know we're all much safer here. At least, we aren't bringing danger home, I guess. Not that they'd hesitate to yank us out the minute their confidence falters." Ginny nodded at Ron seriously, then flipped her hair, as though this was light conversation. "I better be going, I have to finish an essay for McGonagal. see you later!"

"Bye Ginny!" Hermione waved and sighed. "I'm serious, Harry, I'm worried about this. There's talk of an inside job occurring this year, but as far as I'm concerned, its all just talk. No one would dare to at attack us again, nothing would really come of it. Not that I'm not concerned about the safety of the younger ones here."

"Look around, Hermione, " Ron interjected, "how many youngsters do you actually see? Everyone below fifth year is pretty much gone. McGonagal had them all sent home."

"Mmhm, I know but even they're young, compared to us. And they do not have any real means of protecting themselves."

"I bet I know who's behind the inside job," Harry snorted, and glanced from under his hair, which had grown out longer than usual until it nearly always was covering his bright green eyes; at Malfoy, who'd finally seemed to have been able to tear his eyes from their table. "Malfoy."

"Oh, Harry, you know there's no point in starting this again. If he was a threat, why on earth would he have come back again this year? He didn't kill Dumbledore, and everyone knows he was never going to do it. He may be cruel to kids and a right git, but he isn't an idiot, and he knows what to stand for. Obviously, he doesn't stand for Vol-You-know-Who." Harry rolled his eyes. She might be the smartest witch in the school, but she seemed to have trouble understanding his reasoning. Still, there were so many other likable things about her, from her large brown eyes, to her slightly buck teeth and bookish nature. Harry knew she wasn't as dorky as she appeared, having the fond memory of the time he walked in on her and Ginny dancing to some Muggle rock group and doing hair and makeup together. The funny thing is, that instead of it all being Ginny's idea, it happened to have been Hermione's, who had found a fondness for lavish clothes and girly things, though it was subtle and one could still see it now. She was always determined to be "prepared" for any eventuality, and so she maintained a simple tom-boy way of dress, yet she never left her room without nice hair and lip gloss. Lately, he'd noticed she wore her hair differently from day to day, and she had more jewelry on than was customary for him to remember. He figured that, like her mysterious bag, everything she wore had a magical purpose, and was simply part of an elaborate disguise. He couldn't help wondering, though, where she even came up with these things.

"OK, Hermione, but just say Im right...for once. He's crafty. He could easily have us deceived."

"Harry..."

"No, seriously, Hermione, think about it. It would all be too simple for him to do it all again. He already has the perfect chance in front of him, and all the resources to follow through this time. You're right, he isn't an idiot. He's second in the school, right behind you. He could easily come up with an even better plan. We _need _to keep a look out, if even for just something to do." Hermione raised an eyebrow and bit her lip, looking as though she was grappling with some kind of inner battle plan, and couldn't decide whether to argue further, or just agree. He saw a sudden gleam flash in her eyes, and a smile began to tug at the corners of her pouty little mouth. Ron, who was scarfing down eggs, shrugged in his own usual disagreement, and moved on to the toast in front of them. Harry could tell he was about to change subject, but then Hermione spoke again.

"You know, maybe it couldn't hurt to keep surveillance of Malfoy or something. I mean, I doubt he's scheming anything, but it could be interesting to see what he could be hiding. Underneath that cold exterior could be many things, we just have to figure him out."

"Ha! He's not a puzzle, Hermione."

"No, Ron, it's exactly that. The male mind is a great puzzle to me. You two never say what I think you might, and though I know you quite well, you never cease to surprise me with some of the absurdity that you come up with." Harry laughed at Ron's reaction. His eyebrows had risen in utter disbelief all the way to his red hair line.

"What?! You think _we_ are the mystery? _Us? _It cannot be! Girls are the ones that are unbelievably difficult to understand. And considering the fact you know pretty much everything, I'm shocked."

Hermione chuckled quietly. "Of course you are." She picked up her books and stowed them in her bag. "I'm off to the library, to do some research. Harry, for now, would you mind leaving the Malfoy-watching to me? He wouldn't like it if he caught you looking at him, and you know how badly you or Ron would potentially handle such a situation. If we're going to attempt to pin anything on him, we have to do it very, very carefully. No mistakes." Harry twirled his apple, without really thinking about it.

"Oh. Um, I guess so, 'Mione. If you _insist."_

"I do."

"Then I'm with you on it."

"Me too," added Ron, swallowing orange juice loudly.

"OK then. Good. I'll see you guys later in potions, OK?"

Harry and Ron nodded simultaneously, and Hermione walked off. Harry turned his gaze back to Malfoy, and was appalled to see the Slytherin watching the curly-headed brunette head out of the Great Hall with a pensive, determined look.

**Attn: **I have no idea, this just came to me one night. I'm not sure where its going to go, but it will certainly go somewhere (I hope).


	2. The First Deal

**Author's Note:** I don't own anything but the idea. :)

**Draco**

Hermione Granger was leaving the Great Hall, and although seconds before, he had been pondering the ceiling, Draco had twisted to watch her go. Now, he was acutely aware of Potter watching him, and with a mocking wiggle of his eyebrows, he turned back to the ceiling for a moment, before he got up and followed her out. There were no words for the raw unease he struggled to hide. Things were not going as smoothly as he had hoped, and he was running out of time. He made for the library, but as soon as he arrived at the doors, he found Granger headed for the Restricted Section, and under the circumstances, he walked away quickly.

He needed a book in there though, possibly more than one, but he was not sure he could risk her brown eyes catching a glimpse of him, or else she would report him to Potter, who, naturally, would accuse him of the very crime he was guiltily attempting to commit. Yet to risk delaying the project any longer would render him in danger and far behind schedule. It would be his head if he failed, and the lump in his throat rose threateningly. He was too young, too afraid to die. Therefore he was determined not to fail. Leaning back against the cool stone wall, Draco mentally berated himself. He had to get himself under control, remain calm. Stuffing his shaking hands in his pockets and biting down hard on his lip to stop the trembling, he breathed deeply and composed himself. Her refused to show signs of failure or weakness in front of anyone; least of all one of the Golden Trio.

The library was unusually quiet, and for the first time, Draco felt the lack of students deeper than before. No one was snogging in a dark corner, there were no girls giggling about some nonsense, not a single Hufflepuff was to be found, not even Ernie, and a lone Slytherin sat at a long table, composing what looked like two feet worth of parchment for Potions. He did not know the boy personally, and merely nodded solemnly in his direction when the boy looked up.

Draco headed swiftly past Madam Pince's unfriendly eyes, straight for the back of the library. Deep in the Restricted Section, the silence was eerie, but the quiet was a source of solace. Browsing among the Dark Magic section, he felt eyes on him.

"Looking for something?"

"Is it any of your business, Granger," spat Draco as he continued to finger the edges of the books, looking for a title.

"I think I have the book you're looking for. I'm done with it, so you may have it."

"How would you have any idea what I'm looking for?"

"Because you keep going over the same row," she pulled him away from the bookshelf and shoved a large black book in his hands. Immediately, she turned on her heels and left. She clearly didn't expect the thank you that he was too proud to give. He looked down at the book. She had been right; it was exactly what he needed. But why had she been reading it? He seriously doubted it had been for academic purposes, but he had been under the impression that Ms. High-and-Mighty would never touch it.

"Damn you, Granger," he whispered, and headed back to the front desk. Madam Pince looked quite suspicious as she checked it out form him. "For Defense Against the Dark Arts, of course," he drawled calmly, but his own reasons for the unnecessary explanation were lost upon him as he left.

Granger was still in the hallway as he headed down to the dungeons, her bag having split. He chose to ignore her rather than hurl an insult, and leaned against a column, waiting for her to stay ahead of him as she too headed to Potions. Though it was clear she would never admit it in front of anyone, Draco had an inkling that Potions was at least her second favorite subject, as her exceptional brewing lent her top marks, and the satisfaction written on her face whenever she succeeded was increasingly obvious. At least, it was to Draco, who had watched her all last year. It was now nearing the Christmas holiday, and, it dawned on him that it being their last year at Hogwarts, she undoubtedly aspired to become an Auror. Her charmwork was certainly worthy of acceptance by the ministry, he envied her himself. Perhaps even envy was the wrong word for it, he realized, it was something closer to admiration.

He shook his head before he entered the classroom. He couldn't be having these thoughts during class, they were wrong in the first place, but thinking about Granger with her in the same room was downright idiotic. He'd go insane if he let the admiration grow.

As soon as the last student walked in the door, Snape slammed the doors and took his usual place at the podium next to his desk. He flicked his wand, and instructions appeared on the board. "Today, you will be choosing partners for the remainder of the term for a...project of sorts. Choose wisely, as your grades are combined. You will be responsible for both of yourselves; therefore, you will both fail together and pass together, according of course on your intellectual abilities to not screw this assignment. As seventh years, I expect," Snape glanced at Potter and Weasley with a look of loathing, "most of you to be up to par. Do not fail, or you shall fail the class." Snape left the podium abruptly. "Now, it is the policy of this school for you to choose someone you would not normally work with, someone of equal intelligence. I however, prefer to select pairs myself. Thus, if you do not have a partner in sixty seconds you will risk the unpleasant consequence of having them chosen for you."

For a moment, no one moved. The Slytherins looked unhappily at each other; all except for Draco, who was staring determinedly at Granger. Being the dunce he was, Potter looked over at the perfect moment, and upon seeing Draco's gaze, clenched a fist and snapped a quill. Draco smirked. Then, suddenly, the room was abuzz with students choosing and fighting for partners. He simply crossed the room, and stood in front of her desk, and stared down at her curly head. She reluctantly looked up at him, questioning him silently. Potter formed a silently threatening stance next to her, and again, Draco smiled.

"Granger, would you do me the honor of being my partner?"

"I...uh...erm..." he'd never seen her so flustered and so surprised. She glanced nervously at her friends.

"Well?"

"I...yes."

He nodded triumphantly at Potter, and smiled again. The smiling had to stop. It was so unlike him. But secretly, he was elated for a reason he couldn't quite put his finger on. "Thank you," he replied, as he made his way back to his desk. He quickly squashed the energetic back flips in his stomach, and turned his eyes away from Granger, who was still staring at him as though her were swearing a highly shocking strain of curses. _Gods what am I doing? I'm only going to screw things up worse. I can't afford to get tangled up with Granger_, he thought, feeling thoroughly idiotic, then immediately regretted the choice of words in his mind; it only made him think of Granger curled up in his arms. _What is going on?_ There was no rational answer, of course, so he decided he was simply going insane under the pressure of his work.

Snape cleared his throat curtly, drawing Draco from his pondering. "I do hope you have chosen by now." The class nodded nervously. "Then you should have no trouble moving to sit with your partner to discuss the project." Once again, there was an awkward delay before anyone moved; and in the end, it was Neville Longbottom who moved first. Since the seat next to him was empty, Granger picked up her bags, waved guiltily at Potter and Weasley, and came over and sat next to him. She did not look at him, instead, she looked up at Snape, who, looking surprised, but oddly pleased, stared over at them. Draco simply smirked slightly, then pulled out his notes and a fresh quill. Snape went back to perusing the class, and with a flick of his wand, laid out the steps to their assignment. "You have forty minutes to complete this assignment. It is a second-level health restoration potion, this should be doable for even the least proficient of you," he glanced once at Longbottom and Weasley, who reddened. "You can expect low marks if you do not succeed to brew a mediocre potion today...homework is two feet of parchment on the properties of batwing serums in health potions. Start."

Without looking at Granger, Draco lit the cauldron and began adding ingredients. When it came time to cut up the lacewings, he reached for the lacewings to find them already very finely chopped. He looked over at her, as she poured over the book and the instructions, as she checked off each step on her notes. He had thought she had not been paying attention; that she was letting him take the lead, but he realized with a lump of satisfaction that she had been helping all along. As his hands had blindly groped for ingredients, she had made sure he had taken the right thing, handing him each vial in a neat, perfect row. Now, she held out the chopped lacewings for him to take. He hesitated, aware of how strange it would look if he took them directly from her hand. But he was acutely aware how it would look to her if he did not, and he could not fathom why, but he put his hand under hers and, using the other, brushed the pieces onto her hand, slowly making contact with her soft skin. Her brown eyes met his silver ones, and her lips held the tiniest of smiles, and Draco could not help it, he had to smile back. "Alright, now how many times am I to stir it?" He could tell by the way she looked at her book that he'd made her happy with this small truce he had randomly made.

"Oh, twice clockwise, then three times counterclockwise."

"Right then," he replied, stirring the potion gently.

"Oh good...it's the purple it's supposed to be!"

"Did you expect it to be green like Longbottoms," he quipped rather harshly, unable to allow her all the friendliness she deserved.

"No. I was simply noting our accomplishment. But I suppose that's too positive for the King of Darkness."

He couldn't help it. He snorted at her name-calling. He knew she was above actual insults, but it was highly amusing all the same. "I see, but," he lowered his voice as Snape walked by," I wonder, is that the best you've got Queen of Knowledge?"

"No, it's not. But, as you can clearly see, we are in class. We are partners. I would think you'd like to get good marks. So lets keep the insults to a minimum, hmmm?"

"Deal."

It was the beginning of a very scary road, Draco thought, as the rest of the class went by quickly, and he escaped back to his room.

Meanwhile, he could not ignore the angry looks thrown at him by a livid, loathesome Harry Potter.

**AN:** How's that for another chapter? Reviews please!


	3. The Careful Decision

**Author's Note:** I do not own anything. Oh well.

**Harry**

If it was the last thing he did, Harry swore to himself that he would kill Draco Malfoy. He couldn't be sure what he was up to, but there was no way that his motives for trying to befriend Hermione were admirable. Now, he could hardly suppress an angry explosion once he and Ron were back from Potions. Luckily enough, he didn't have to bring it up; Ron was one step ahead of him.

"What do you recon he's playing at?"

"Who," Harry chose to play dumb this time, knowing that this way he could turn the conversation in the direction he wanted it to go.

"Malfoy!"

"Oh, well I suppose he wants me dead, and he means to go through Hermione." Ron looked up at Harry with a slightly amused look.

"I don't think so Harry. I don't think he's really up to something bad this time. The scary thing is," he added as he plopped down on his bed and spread out his homework unhappily," that he looks way too genuine. He didn't even look like he was trying to be nice. It's like it came naturally to him."

"Yeah, I noticed." He didn't add the part where he broke his quill and spilled ink everywhere. If Ron had noticed, he didn't seem to recognize why Harry reacted the way he did. For this, he was grateful. He thought he knew how Ron felt about Hermione, by now, even if he had been seeing Luna for a few months and seemed to like her a lot. The problem was, he felt just about the same way Ron had used to. He would do anything for her, he knew he'd go above and beyond just to see her captivating smile, and sometimes he couldn't believe how pretty she was. And even if Ron was really over her, it probably wouldn't go over well if Harry told him how he felt.

The thing was, if Malfoy was toeing his way into her life, then he would just have to put his foot down. He'd make sure that it was clear to the slimy Slytherin that Hermione was his, and no one else could have her. Harry just hoped it wouldn't need to happen that way.

It was clear, however, as he glance over at the Marauder's Map that Malfoy was certainly up to something. He appeared to be pacing furiously around his room, probably scheming his plans for World Domination. Ron snickered.

"What?"

"World Domination? Malfoy?"

Harry finally realized he had been muttering loudly to himself, and that Ron had managed to pay attention. "Oh...yeah..." he laughed nervously, "er, just ignore that, Ron."

"Are you alright, mate? I know you've been obsessing lately, maybe more than usual. I doubt Malfoy's going to do anything, besides, if you think about it, there's nothing he could want here. Maybe Hermione's right, maybe he's changing."

"She said that?"

"Yeah. She recons he's just trying to make amends. He's been nice to her lately. Come to think of it, he hasn't insulted her in weeks. Weird, huh?"

Harry was already thinking over the past few weeks. "Oh, yeah...that is kind of weird, Ron."

"It's probably nothing. Figured he'd run out of steam eventually." With that, the conversation was clearly over, as Ron turned back to his work with a sigh, and dug into a pile of chocolates for moral support. But Harry didn't want to do his homework now, not while his mind was only focused on Malfoy. He wanted to know what brought him back to Hogwarts when there was nothing here, no Order members watching him, no Dumbledore, nothing worth stealing.

Or was there something he was missing? Was there something at Hogwarts worth taking? Something Voldemort wanted here? Harry seriously doubted it, but he had to leave the option open.

When he thought about how Malfoy could use Hermione, he wanted to crush the life out of his nemesis. Of course! Hermione was the brightest witch in the school, she'd read most of the books in the library, and Hogwarts: A History at least ten times-probably twice that. If there was anyone in the school who would be a source for aid, she would be it. And moreover, it was all too easy. Hermione was a girl, and from what Harry had heard, Malfoy was considered good-looking, and with all the charm he seemed to have been using in Potions, she would certainly want to help him. Besides, she always striven to see the good in people, and had always been skeptical of anything Harry had ever tried to pin on Malfoy. Even in second year, when he had been so sure he could prove to her that Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin, she'd raised an eyebrow, bit her lip, and had refused to agree with him that he might be right, that was, until they had the Polyjuice potion completed. Of course, then she'd only considered the idea.

So all Malfoy would have to do, now that he and Hermione were...Harry couldn't suppress a grimace...friendly...would be to simply ask for a hand doing homework. They would go to the library, he would act innocent, then rack her brains for as much useful information as he could, then act like nothing odd happened. Once he had all he needed, he would surely go back to being cruel to her. Which would leave Hermione confused and betrayed, leaving Harry and Ron to play the part of the told-you-so-sayers. And he could just not let that happen. He would stop this before it got going, and then Hermione would never get hurt.

So, the next morning at breakfast, Harry was determined to broach the subject with Hermione. He let the conversation at their table grow to a healthy state, and concentrated on eating his porridge. Hermione was decidedly acting as per usual, her nose in a book, and a piece of toast held loosely to one side, halfheartedly forgotten in her studies. As Ron struck up a heated conversation with Seamus about Gobstones, Harry sought her attention.

"So, Hermione, about you and Malfoy being partners..."

"What about it Harry," she asked, cutting him off and giving him a pointedly annoyed look.

"Well...it's just that, well, he's Malfoy. Why did you even give him the time of day, anyway?"

"Because, as Snape and you know very well, we're pretty much academic equals. I mean," she added as she set down her book somewhat reluctantly," I was pretty surprised too, believe me, but I know that only good can come of it."

"I think he's up to something, and I think he's going to use you to help him," Harry blurted. He immediately regretted it, worrying about how she'd react, but her expression only softened. She shook her head.

"Of course you do, Harry," she said, smiling slightly, "but you've only been right once, and at that rate, well, I can hardly think you're right. But appreciate your concern, it's sweet."

So it was not what he expected, nor was it everything he wanted, but at least she hadn't gotten insulted. "Well, we'll see Hermione, in the end."

Then, the unthinkable happened. Draco Malfoy had risen from his seat at the Slytherin table, and was making his way over towards Hermione, who held an expression of what Harry could only read as incredulity. Besides Hermione, Ron and Ginny had seemed to sense Malfoy, and ended both of their conversations. Harry was ready with his hand on his wand in case he needed it, and a look of loathing placed thickly on his face. Upon seeing Harry, Malfoy sneered momentarily, before smoothing his face into what was supposed to be a polite smile. He turned his attention to Hermione.

"Granger, would you...do me the honor of researching our project with me in the library after Runes?"

Hermione smiled back, and Harry wanted to wipe the smile off the damned snake's face.

"Oh, good idea! We can walk together then, right after class."

Malfoy's face reddened a tint, then paled back to normal before anyone seemed to notice. He bit his lip rather warily, and his eyes darted nervously. It was obvious he was weighing the options he was given, and contemplating just how bad it would be if he said yes.

"Okay, I will meet you right outside the door the minute the bell rings, alright?"

"Fine."

"Bye then, Granger, Potter," he drawled, and nodded at Ron and Ginny, who were clearly just as uneasy as Harry was.

"Bye Malfoy," Hermione called back.

Harry turned ashen-faced, and stared at his hands. He was at a loss for words. It seemed Malfoy had been sincere. But, just in case, Harry would be keeping a very close watch on him. He wouldn't let anything get past him, and he would ensure Hermione's safety even if it put their friendship on the rocks. After all, he wanted much more than friendship, and by the way Malfoy had been looking at her lately, so did he.

"Let the best man win," he muttered under his breath as he watched Malfoy stride out of the Great Hall, a bit of a skip in his step.

**A/N:** Another chapter down! Yay! Reviews please!


	4. A New Task

**Author's Note:** I have yet to have inherited HP from JK. But I shall still write. So I finally updated, and I think you will be happy to finally find out part of what Draco is up to and what he is still doing at Hogwarts as well as what happens next. Plus, it's really long. Enjoy!

**Draco**

Draco decided the minute he got out of the Great Hall that he was Britain's Biggest Idiot. But then, if all went well with this, he might be Britain's Biggest, but he at least would be it's happiest as well. Just yesterday, his life had been forced to change course; having received a letter from his Mother containing the news that his task had changed had thrown him for a loop. He would never have guessed he'd be instructed to get close to Granger but there it was, written out in scarlet ink: _Weaken the Trio and Gain The Woman's Loving Trust_**_,_** his mother had scrawled and underlined quickly in the middle of the page. To Draco, the phrase sounded a bit like a Muggle Romance novel, and he was sure that had been the intention. With the words surrounding it, to anyone but a Death Eater or his mother, it would look as though he had received a letter about a book his mother had been reading recently, a truly innocent letter. Draco praised his forethought, even though he knew he'd just gotten lucky. Granger seemed to trust him already, or at least she was pretending to. He wondered why she wanted to force him upon the Walk of Shame, but if he had to do this to get what he wanted, what he needed, even just to make her happy, then so be it. The only problem, that was acknowledged by a squelching feeling in his stomach, was that he would become dangerously close to living out his night time fantasies when he was only supposed to pretend to like her.

Thus,even with two small accomplishments already out of the way, he somehow felt he was setting himself up for failure. Not academically; something he would never live through, but socially; a failure he felt that even if it happened he could crawl his way back to the top in a reasonably short amount of time. He was a Malfoy, after all, and with the name came privileges. Certainly this couldn't backfire permanently if he succeeded in one way and failed in another. Though he'd had no choice but to agree to walk with Granger since he'd set himself up for the offer, even so, he would make it at least look like he wasn't softening up too quickly. There was something about Potter's reaction that should have told him as a man to drop this immediately and leave Hermione alone for good; but, alas,his curiosity was getting the best of him anyway and now he had to obey his orders.

So now, as he headed along the corridor, he couldn't help but smirk evilly, scaring a random third year who must have thought that with the way Draco was strutting and twirling his wand absently that he was either going to be cursed by a madman or was in the presence of an idiot. He wondered absently what the child was still doing here, as most of his year had been yanked out weeks ago, but the question lingered only as long as the boy remained in sight. Draco really couldn't care less what the boy thought of him or really why he was there. He had more pressing matters to attend to.

For one, his life was still on the line as much as it ever had been, despite his recent triumphs. It didn't matter how many books he read, his knowledge of the Dark Arts hadn't really expanded in the confines of Hogwarts, and he was honestly no closer to completing even the supposedly simplest of his tasks, one of which now threatened his image at school and his status at home. This was where he worried he was failing. It was becoming harder to keep up his fake appearance as the troubled teen who'd returned to Hogwarts scared and changed after last Spring's occurrences. He was supposedly ashamed of his attempts on the Headmaster's life; repentant and fearful of the repercussions of his deeds. And the stupid good people around him had mostly eaten that up, welcoming him back with open arms; with the exception of Potter and his close followers. And although he was sad about everything he'd done, he couldn't act like a child and he had to make his father think he was only disappointed that he'd failed. This only caused him guilt; a feeling he had only begun to feel once he watched Dumbledore fall from the tower, his eyes wide and unblinking, his body crumpled and splaying in the wind.

Draco's eyes suddenly became watery, and he turned around, searching for the lavatory he was sure to be found somewhere around the area. Spotting it up ahead to his right, he ran towards it, rubbing at his eyes as he went. Reaching it, he hurled himself inside and locked the door. He considered sitting in a stall, as his legs were shaking but decided against it. He cast aside his bag and transfigured the trash can into a small stool and sat upon it, wringing his hands nervously, trying to regain control of his nerves.

His lip trembled slightly; that had been happening far too frequently lately, and he bit it to suppress any emotions that were trying to come out. He wouldn't be like was last year, no more did he cry in bathrooms, even if he was sitting in one at the moment. No more was he supposed to be weak. He'd promised himself that this year would be better, but once he'd arrived with tasks having been drilled into his head, Draco was becoming more and more confused. His motives were changing and his strength already lines between what he was doing and what he should do were blurring in front of him, and he was losing some control the more complicated this became.

He might be scared of the road ahead, but even this dark road had periods of light in it. So he would find a way to let Granger in, and get into her mind. She would resist him, oh how he knew she would, but even he knew it had to be her decision. He wasn't supposed to use any force on her in any way, and he never intended to anyway. Manipulating the situation would be hard, but if she was a noble and good as he thought she was, he would find a way to use that to his advantage. In theory, Granger was just a smart witch, brandishing vast knowledge, fiery determination, and a wand; but still just a woman; and all women wanted the same basic things: acceptance, understanding, entertainment, and a man to keep her warm at night. Draco had to somehow become the man who accepted and understood her, entertained her, and loved her, and he had to do it just like any other man would; through the old fashioned method of flirtatious courting.

Draco shuddered slightly at the thought of becoming the pathetic wooing idiot he was intended to be, but then quickly decided that if it was done right it could be enjoyable. He could make Potter suffer as his lovely object of affection was whisked away by none other than his dashing enemy. _And dashing I am, if I do say so myself_, Draco thought, smiling into the mirror as he got up off the stool. He waved his wand, returning the trashcan to it's original state, and sighed at his recent emotional turns as he retrieved his bag. He left the lavatory and headed to class, now aware that if he didn't hurry he would be late. He didn't wish to go to Charms on a morning like this, but as he passed a window the sun was falling behind the growing clouds so it was not an ideal day to skip and leave for a walk. The plans had been made, now all he had to do was come up with some suitable conversation starters to use as he walked with Hermione. As soon as that thought reached his conscious mind, he started, reacting slowly to his own brain. So now he was planning conversations? Trying to figure out how to get inside her head? "Seriously, have I lost it already,"he asked himself accidentally out loud.

"No, no dear, I'm sure you haven't lost it yet," replied a wizened old witch in a portrait to his left. "I on the other hand, well that's something to wonder about, isn't it Tilly, dear?"

Draco hadn't a clue as to who Tilly was, but he wasn't about to hang around the area to find out, as he could see students up ahead, filing into Flitwick's class room as the bell was about to sound. He rushed forward and slipped into a seat in the back just as tiny Flitwick himself reached his pedestal and opened his mouth to start his lecture.

Charms went by quicker than he expected, and before he knew it, he found himself on his way to Ancient Runes, and towards two hours of staring at the back of Granger's head until that fateful bell would sound and he'd be meeting her outside the door. Draco loved Ancient Runes because it challenged his mind more than his magical abilities, so he enjoyed it almost every time he had class. Today however, he found himself focusing more on Granger than on his homework. She concentrated, of course on her work, her head bent down and her long hair spilling over the sides of the table as her quill scratched rapidly on the parchment. He watched her movements as often as he could, as her shoulders scrunched and she pushed her hair out of the way, all the while trying to complete his assignment. He handed his roll of parchment to Sinistra a minute before the bell was to ring and gathered his stuff. Once everyone else was getting ready to leave, he stationed himself directly outside the door as he'd promised, and stood, waiting.

He ruffled his blond hair absently as he watched Granger heading toward him. Her eyes were bright but her steps were wary, and she had a clear grip on her wand, placed in her jean pocket. He made the first move towards her, and nodded, a small smile was allowed to tug at the corners of his mouth. "Hi, Granger, shall we?"

She hesitated, then smiled, leading the way down the hall. He kept pace with her, keeping two feet between them. "So Runes was good today, wasn't it," she asked suddenly, her voice cheerful.

"Er, yeah, it was." In truth, he hadn't paid as much attention to the lesson once he'd figure it out and begun to solve the problems. "So what should we start with today?" Talking to her was easier than he'd thought, as long as he played nice and didn't let his mouth run away on its own.

"Hmmm...I was thinking you'd have already figured that out, since this was your idea."

"Oh." He grimaced in embarrassment, then frowned at her.

"But that's not a problem! I have plenty of ideas." She smirked in triumph as they finally reached the library floor.

"Of course you do."

"Well, since we have to come up with a reasonably good attempt at creating a potion, maybe we could research potion theory to start." Draco stared at her, not sure he could trust his ears.

"You mean, like we have to read about how potions work?_ And_ how they were first developed, the whole history? _And_-" She cut him off, nodding as she spoke.

"And how they're created and brewed, yes."

"Do you have any idea how_ long_ that will take? I don't know about you, Granger, but I don't intend to spend all my time on this. I _do_ have other things to do."

"Well there are two of us. We're sharing the work," she retorted. "And I'm starting right now, and as we've already agreed, this was your idea, so follow me."

"You're insane," Draco whined as he followed her into the depths of the library. They reached a secluded corner towards the back, not that they had no privacy; there were very few students there at this hour. Still, he was amused at the choice she'd made; if he were to make any moves on her, as he probably would end up doing, no one would be there to interrupt, and with this realization, Draco's sour mood lifted and he reached for the book she handed him. He opened it, only to find his attention diverted as she set down her own book on the table and lifted her sweater off over head, revealing a nicely fitted white blouse; with two buttons undone he noticed, underneath. Once she'd stuffed the sweater in her bag, she returned back to perusing the shelves. "Its going to be a very short two hours," Draco whispered, returning to his book.

"So you _do_ enjoy studying?"

"Well right now, very much so," he replied, and winked. It didn't seem to register with her why he smirked, but nevertheless, she looked please.

_Very short session only if you unbutton one more button_, thought Draco, finally forcing himself to ignore her and concentrate on his research.

**A/N:** So what do you think? I hope it wasn't too dramatic too yet.


	5. Getting Jealous

**Author's Note:** I do not own anything. New chapter!

**Harry**

Harry climbed through the portrait hole and went straight to his room. After he deposited his book bag, he grabbed his Charms homework and made his way back downstairs to the common room.

"Ron, have you seen Hermione around?" Harry asked as soon as he spotted Ron.

"Um no Harry, I haven't, sorry," replied Ron, who sat in his favorite armchair, pouring over his homework. He seemed stressed, Harry noticed, as there were large ink blots on his parchment and his red hair was mussed up. "I think she may be in the library with Malfoy."

Harry grimaced, sitting down in the chair next to Ron, and opened his book a bit more harshly than he'd intended. "Still? Its past four."

"Well you know how those two are," muttered Ron, who still hadn't looked up from his work. "Two bookish people in a room full of books are bound to be gone awhile."

"If she's not back by five, we should go find her."

"You go ahead, Harry, I'm not in the mood to deal with Malfoy."

"What about Malfoy," asked Ginny, who had just come in. She ran her fingers through her long hair and then sat across from the two boys.

"Harry wants to go find him and Hermione in the library."

"Oh I forgot they were going together."

"They aren't going together, Ginny," spat Harry, "they're just studying."

"Sure, Harry. Anyway, do you know anything about snorkaks?"

As Ron sighed and launched into an explanation that slightly surprised Harry, Harry turned to his book but found he could not concentrate very well. He quickly read over the chapter, and tried and failed to come up with a decent opening paragraph for his essay. He sighed in frustration after the conversation next to him had died out and Ginny had began her own work.

"Anyone know the time," he implored, looking up with his be-speckled eyes. Ginny shook her head as she leaned over her books in much the same fashion as Ron was. Harry was about to check the time on his watch, then remembered he hadn't put it on that morning. "Well, I'm going now." When no one so much as looked up in response, he put away his books in his bag and headed out the portrait hole and was off to the library. He was ancy to the point that it was actually annoying himself, so he drummed his fingers on the stone walls as he walked briskly along the halls.

Once he reached the library, he went immediately to Hermione's usual place, rushing past Madame Pince's penetrating gaze as she fingered the pages of the large tomes she was shelving, and expected to find her there. But he was surprised to see that, in fact, Hermione was no where to be found, and there was no evidence that she had been there at all lately. Confused, he doubled back along the aisles, and even checked the tables in the front. He swallowed slowly as he realized where he had not yet checked. With his jaw set in jealousy, Harry made his way determinedly to the very back of the library, near the Restricted Section.

The closer he got, the more he swore he could hear quiet laughter coming from the secluded corner, and when his route opened out into the small alcove where Hermione and Malfoy had stolen away, his worst fears were realized. Indeed, the Slytherin blond was seated close to Hermione, as they examined a huge volume, laughing quietly. Hermione was laughing too, which disturbed Harry, as it showed as evidence that the Slytherin's laughter was in no way malicious. But what really made his blood boil was how he watched Malfoy's arm creep slowly up Hermione's back and finally was draped across her shoulders. She didn't seem to mind, didn't shrug it off. Harry paused behind the bookshelf, unsure of how to proceed. His temper and jealousy was beginning to crescendo within him, and he felt himself growing hot.

There was no way around it. Malfoy needed to be put in his place. It was not right for him to be getting so chummy with Hermione, and Harry just couldn't bear to let it happen. But of course, his rational side was decreasing in importance in his mind; now all he saw was a large red spot growing in his line of sight. Confrontation was the only thing he could think to do, so he marched over to the table in front of him.

"Hermione, what are you doing with Malfoy?"

Hermione looked up in alarm and just as quickly back down at her book. as a sneer set itself on Malfoy's mouth. He chuckled lowly and hardly acknowledged Harry's presence. The Slytherin squared his shoulders as Hermione scooted away from him. "Well well well, Potty to the rescue, is it? I daresay your courage is unneeded here."

"Ha, right. Hermione? Maybe you should come with me."

"Why, Harry," Hermione asked, peeling her eyes from the book in front of her slowly. "Nothing's wrong here, we're just studying."

"What's with the chummy attitudes then, huh? He's got his arm around you and everything! You can't trust him, Hermione, he'll hex you as soon as you turn around!"

"Harry, that's ridiculous. We're partners in potions, you know that. So what's wrong with us being friendly about it? Draco has done nothing wrong."

Harry and Draco snorted at the same time. "Draco? You call him Draco now?" This was all so ridiculous, and Harry couldn't believe his ears. He had always been so sure Hermione was smarter than this, but the situation at hand had him worrying that maybe he had misjudged her. It seemed to him that Hermione thought Harry was overreacting, he could tell by the way she sighed and got up from her seat.

"Yes, I do, because we are friends," she gathered up her books and put them in her bag, while Harry waited patiently. "Honesty, Harry, you're the only one who has a problem with Draco and I being friends."

"I just don't like it, Hermione," said Harry as they left the library. He honestly didn't like the way she smiled and waved at Draco as they left. He hated to admit it, but he was very jealous. He just hoped the two didn't get too cozy, and that he could find a way to tell Hermione how he felt. But as they walked back to the common room, he realized it wasn't going to be easy. Since he wasn't known for having good timing, he was prone to rash decision making, and just before they reached the common room, Harry grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her aside.

"Can we talk for a moment? I need to tell you something."

"Is this about Draco and me?" Her brown eyes were staring into him, and as he nodded, he felt shameful of his behavior. But he had no other way to handle his feelings, and now that he had his chance, he had no choice but to voice them. "Harry, I really don't want to hear it."

"No, I mean its not exactly about that, its about other things, but anyway I just need to tell you something."

"Then tell me."

"Well...erm...okay, but just hear me out, okay?"

"Its fine Harry, I promise to."

"Well I like you, Hermione so-"

Hermione interrupted him."I like you too, Harry, now what is it?"

"No, I mean...I-" but before Harry could explain any further, Ron came out of no where and called over to them.

"Oi! Hermione, Ginny's looking for you, and Harry, want to go over the Charms homework now?"

Harry mentally slapped Ron, but he pasted on a friendly smile. "Yeah. Sure."

Following Ron and Hermione through the portrait hole, he vowed that as soon as he could, he would send Hermione an owl telling her everything. He just hoped it would be sooner rather than later.

**A/N:** I know, craptastic chapter. Oh well. Imma update soon, I promise!


	6. Duking it Out

**Author's Note:** I own nothing. Not even my life! Joking about that, of course, but seriously the characters aren't of my creation and the story is all from my imagination.

**Draco**

Draco thoroughly enjoyed all the time he had been spending with Hermione as of late. Beyond the fact that she was quite interesting, she was easy and appealing to his eyes. Though he rarely got bored with their studies and their project work, when he actually found his attention wandering, it always wandered to her body. He swore he was going a tad insane from his idiotic lust for the Muggleborn, but somehow he didn't mind. Not to even mention how annoyed Potter was looking lately, Draco's days were filled with his two favorite things: a hot view of a curly-haired brunette and the satisfaction that Harry Potter was miserable. Often he considered himself the luckiest man alive, because so much was practically falling into his lap, and he hardly had to do a thing.

After last week's display in the library, Draco found that all he had to do was look at Hermione a certain way and if Potter was anywhere near them, he would turn into a basket case. It was almost always worth a professor's scolding if he managed it in class, because the look on Scarhead's face was usually priceless. But soon just looks weren't enough for Draco, even when he was completely alone with Hermione. He kept having a most irritating urge to touch her, but simply hanging his arm around her shoulders as they sat next to each other, reading through large tomes was no longer good enough. He needed to feel more of her, so when they met again that Thursday after class, he resolved to at least get his arm around her waist, or their fingers to touch. In truth, he felt like a little boy again, trying to get his first crush to pay attention to him. Then he reminded himself that he'd never had a crush, every woman he'd ever been with had been simply his for the taking, and he'd happily taken every single woman at his will.

But there was something different about Hermione. He couldn't put his finger on why, but he enjoyed her company a little more than he supposed he should. Stubbornly, he shook his head at himself in the mirror, trying to shake any mushy thoughts from his head. "Bugger," he whispered with annoyance, crinkling up his forehead as he thought. He had forgotten what he was going to wear, then realized how moronic he was acting. "She doesn't bloody care what I wear," he scowled, and immediately frowned. After staring into the mirror for a few more moments, he shook his head again and reached for his favorite black sweater. He didn't need to even say what he thought of himself in the sweater, he already knew he looked his best. Many times Pansy had crooned about his sexiness as she'd stroked his broad shoulders through the soft wool. He smirked at the memories, and ended up grinning even more when he imagined Hermione taking Pansy's place. _That_ was something to think about.

With a chuckle, he grabbed his bag, took one last glance in the mirror, and headed off to the library. As he reached the doors, he was surprised to be called away by the sound of familiar footfalls heading toward him. He turned around just as Pansy practically launched herself at him, and set his jaw into a half-friendly smile.

"Draco! You look exquisite today!"

"Not the word I would use," he snorted, "but thanks Pansy." _Oh Merlin, please don't hug me_, he thought just as she slid her arm around his waist in an attempted embrace that he quickly broke away from. Pansy giggled and glanced at his book bag. _You should know better_, _you twit_, he scowled, but said nothing.

"Off to the library for some studying with the Mudblood, I see," she spat, clearly annoyed. Her voice was just dripping with distaste and he smirked at the way she was pursing her lips at him. He chose to amuse himself.

"Hermione, you mean? Oh...yes well, well-spotted there Pans. I was just heading in," he sighed, allowing himself to sound bored with the conversation. In truth, the way she was starting to tap her foot with irritation was keeping him quite entertained.

Pansy scowled and looked around them. "Getting awfully cozy with the bint, then?"

"I suppose you wouldn't like to join us," Draco replied, ignoring her first question. _Wouldn't that be funny, Hermione would drive her up a wall and around a corner!_

"No," she spat acidly, "good day, Draco," she said as Hermione rounded the corner, and turned on her heels. She glared at Hermione as she passed her, while Hermione simply gave her a curt little nod. There was nothing Pansy could say without earning a punishment, and Draco knew for a fact that the prospect of losing points was the only thing keeping her quiet. Hermione seemed to know this too, and once she was right in front of Draco, she greeted him with a cheeky grin.

"Hermione," he said, not bothering with a hello and gestured her inside the library.

"Hello, Draco," she replied, nodding and leading the way inside. "Now today I suggest we start compiling our notes into the procedure write-up that's due next week. I've brought everything I've written out, so I hope you've brought your own notes. Of course, if you haven't, we can just work around that."

"I've got them," he stated more out of annoyance than for her information. _As if I would forget anything_, he thought with a scowl as she continued to prattle on about their work. "Yeah, yeah I know, let's just get to work, okay?"

"Someone's in a bad mood today," she chuckled, as she set out her books on the table and set her notes in order. Draco ignored her and sat down across from her, not meeting her eyes. She raised her eyebrow's a little, but chose not to comment further.

They worked in silence for awhile, until Draco decided to play footsie. He gently kicked her foot under the table, and at first, she did nothing but look up from the parchment sh had been hurriedly scribbling on. She cocked an eyebrow at him, then looked back down. Two minutes later, and her foot tapped his. Before long, they had a full-fledged war going on under the table, and it was clear by her random giggles, that she was enjoying herself. Because Draco was too proper to laugh aloud in moments like this, he tried to wipe the smirk that was ever-growing on his face.

All too soon, it was time to part ways. She handed him a long stretch of parchment and sighed. "So I wrote out what I have. I enchanted it so you can add your own thoughts wherever you like, and add more to the bottom with your notes. When you're done, just give it back to me and I'll make sure it gets handed in."

"Sounds simple enough," he replied, taking it from her and glancing at it quickly. "I'll give it to you at breakfast tomorrow." She glanced at him very quickly, then smiled appreciatively. _Pretty smile,_ he thought, then immediately squashed the thought as he felt his face turning dopey. He refused to look like an idiot directly in front of her. "Um...I'll walk you with you to dinner now, then?"

"Oh. Well yes, good idea," she said, biting her lip, and Draco had to look away before his thoughts traveled anywhere they shouldn't go. She led the way down the corridor, and they made no hurry as they walked. They didn't talk much, and she spent a lot of the time looking out the windows to the grounds. He had to admit it was quite beautiful out, but he couldn't think of a way to comment on the weather without sounding like a sissy or without looking like a fool. He knew he wasn't good at small talk, so he made no effort to make any.

As they were nearing the Great Hall, Draco was suddenly struck with the urge to do something, anything to stall their time together. They were walking close enough together that he could easily take her hand with hardly anyone noticing, but he couldn't tell if she would mind. Earlier, she had said they were friends, though, so he thought he'd at least bring it up as innocently as possible. "Hermione," he started as he stopped walking, and she turned to give him her full attention. But suddenly he was sheepish, so he looked at his feet as he continued. "We're friends, right?"

"Yes, I would say I'm your friend."

He nodded as she peered at him, the gears in her mind clearly turning over as she waited for him to continue. "Then I was wondering, and hear me out on this, but would you mind..." He couldn't make himself finish the words, so he grabbed her hand in the hopes that it would make sense to her. She gasped a little, then laughed. She grasped his hand back more firmly in response, and pulled him forward with her.

They walked along for a bit, both of them smiling, until they came upon Potter and his friends. Draco steered them through a group of people, trying to avoid them, but to no avail.

"Hey, Hermione," called Potter, but Hermione only half-heartedly sighed and looked over at him. Draco yanked her hand forward, and tried to discourage her from calling them over.

Out of nowhere, he heard books falling to the floor and turned towards the commotion as loud thudding footsteps approached them. Just as he flung his hand free from Hermione's, Potter's fist collided with his face."You bastard," he heard Potter say, and he shook his head. "Get your hands off her!"

Draco backed up in pain and anger, and just as he started to stagger to the ground from Potter's attack, he pulled himself forward and promptly threw him to the floor."You're going to regret that Potter," he spat through gritted teeth. He forgot all about school rules and his place in his year, and focused himself solely on punching Potter's face into the ground. He sustained and ignored Potter's scratching, pummeling fists as they fought on the floor, and paid no attention to the other students yelling around him. With a sickening crunch and a spurt of blood, he broke the boy's nose, and felt himself being dragged off the floor.

Potter was scowling, cradling his broken nose as the She-Weasel fawned over his injuries. "Stay away from Hermione, Malfoy, or you'll pay. She's not yours to touch," he said.

Draco looked at Hermione for the first time, and felt ashamed for her horrified expression. He could tell she was torn between him and Potter, and he couldn't watch when she bit her lip and went to Harry's aide. It took all of his self control not to complain about it, and as he ignored her walking away, he instead met Blaise Zabini's eyes and tried to smirk. He was sure the effect was loss on him, but Blaise seemed to understand and he made it obvious he would follow Draco when he left. So he turned back to Potter and decided to leave with the best comment he could come up with while his head was pounding. "Neither is she yours," he drawled. "I'll see you around, Hermione," he said, not meeting her eyes but looking directly at her. She merely stood stalk-still, her honey eyes piercing their way through him, and said nothing.

With that, he shook himself free of the hands that held him, brushed off his clothes, and set his expression to that of indifference. He glanced back at Hermione with what he thought was an apologetic expression, gathered his books, and walked away with the full intention of putting Potter in his place the next time he had the chance.

**A/N:** How's that for an update? The plot thickens...


	7. It's Complicated

**Author's Note:** I know, I know. It's been FOREVER! But I'm back… new chapter! I own nothing!

**Harry**

Hermione was displeased with him, and that displeased Harry. He didn't like it when she was mad at him, but the fact that she'd stormed off to the girl's dormitory muttering about her disappointment with his behavior only worsened his annoyance. Women were so hard to understand, and since Hermione was brilliant, she was that much more frustrating. How she could be mad at him for fighting Malfoy was beyond Harry's comprehension. He wasn't an idiot, and he had felt sure that he was doing the right thing. And all he had earned for it was a broken nose, an irritated women, and Ron attempting to put his nose back correctly.

"Hold still," commanded Ginny, who currently seized hold of Harry's head and held it up straight. She was flustered and fired up with anger at Malfoy, and currently it seemed she was the only one on his side.

"Harry, I can't aim well when you keep moving, are you sure you don't want to go to Madam Pomfrey?"

"No, Ron. It's a simple spell, you've done it a thousand times, just fix my nose and bug off," he spat. He saw Ron turn a little red, and instantly regretted his words. He knew Ron was sensitive, and making him mad wasn't helping matters.

Ron sighed and waved his wand, and Harry's nose crunched back into place. As Ginny siphoned off the blood, he looked in the mirror to see how it looked, and had to admit Ron had done a good job.

"Thanks Ron."

Ron nodded in response as they sunk into the couch in front of the fireplace. They were quiet for awhile, and Harry didn't mind. While the rest of the common room bustled with conversation, Ginny treated Crookshanks to some attention and Ron looked idly through a Chudley Cannons fan book. Harry simply looked at the fire as it consumed the logs he'd placed on it and let himself settle into thought.

He had to do something about Malfoy, but he wasn't sure what. Harry absolutely loathed that snake of a man. If he thought he had the right to go and creep around Hermione, he had another thing coming. He certainly wouldn't stand for it. It was unusual and unnatural. Slytherin and Gryffendor simply did not belong together and it was far worse that the evil man had chosen, of all people, Hermione. He knew Malfoy well enough to suspect that there were ulterior motives in his attempted friendship with Hermione. There was no way it was innocent, regardless of a project or not. He was sure that the project was a premise for some dark deed, and his friendly manner towards Hermione just a ruse.

Yet even if Malfoy was up to something, Hermione had to be out of her mind to be acting this way. To think that she would encourage Malfoy's advances, and betray her friends like this just made no sense. Hermione was very smart, but she was also a good person. Like most naive women, she was very trusting, and since she always sought to bring out the best in people, Harry felt sure that she just didn't know any better. Even if it wasn't like Hermione to suddenly start trusting Malfoy, Harry really couldn't blame her. For all he knew, she was under some kind of spell or something. He certainly wouldn't put it past Malfoy to slip her something. He just needed to find a way to prove it.

Nothing added up, and Harry swore to himself that he would get to the bottom of things. The first thing he needed to do was make Hermione talk. Getting her out of her room was going to be a struggle, but he hoped he could depend on Ginny to help him. Since she was usually dependable, and never liked being kept out of things he felt sure she would be willing to talk Hermione down. With that thought in mind, he broke the silence.

"Hey Gin, could you do me a favor?"

Ginny looked up from petting Crookshanks, and shooed the cat off her legs. With a small smile, she gazed back at him. "Sure thing Harry, what do you need?"

Harry suddenly felt a little uncomfortable. His nerves were getting the best of him already, so he ended up changing his original direction and decided to slowly make his point. "Know where Hermione is?"

"I think she's in her room, why?"

"Mind going up there and talking to her?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm...not sure that's good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because she doesn't want to talk about you, Harry," Ron piped in, looking up from his book. Harry was probably right. "she's mad at you and you know how women are..."

"How women are?" Ginny yelled. Harry smirked a little. Watching the little red head go off on Ron would be entertaining, and he could tell Ron was already walking on thin ice. Ron's eyes widened a little when his sister got right up in his face, but he too smirked a little.

"All I'm saying is," he replied, ignoring Ginny, "is that women have their moods. I don't think you should bother her right now...knowing Hermione, you might make it all worse."

Ginny's feathers were still ruffled, but she nodded in agreement. "He has a point, Harry."

"I know, but...look. I just want to apologize, that's all. And I know she wont talk to me, so all I want is for you to talk to her. Wont that work?"

"Well, maybe," Ginny replied, getting up, "but I'm sure she'll come around when she's ready. And when she does, you tell her yourself, alright?"

"I will, I promise. Just talk some sense into her, okay?"

"Talk sense into whom?"

Harry nearly jumped out of his socks. He hadn't noticed Hermione coming down the stairs, and it seemed neither Ron nor Ginny had either. Ginny saved face, but Ron looked sheepishly down at his book. Hermione cocked an eyebrow, and Harry swallowed.

"Oh, its nothing, Hermione. Luna's just got a bit discouraged is all," drawled Ginny, and he suave way of handling the situation and smoothing things over amused him. There was something a bit scary about Ginny's ability to smooth things over, but he decided not to dwell on it.

"Oh, alright, well, give her my love then," Hermione said. She knitted her eyebrows together in thought, then sat down in between Ron and Harry. She sat there for a moment, then just as quickly got up. "Oh gosh! I'm going to be late!"

"Late for what," Harry asked.

"The library, oh, oh no I'm sorry I've got to go!" She ran back up the stairs to the girl's dormitory and rushed back down moments later, clutching her bag and a very large book. "I'll see you guys later!"

"Wait!" Harry called, rushing after her. "I'll walk with you."

Hermione looked conflicted, but nodded okay. They headed out the portrait hole.

"Hermione, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"If you like someone, should you tell them?"

"I would think so, yes," Hermione nodded as she rounded the corner.

"But what if you like a girl who you don't think likes you?"

"I think you should tell her. I'm pretty sure Ginny feels the same."

"I..what?" Harry froze, confused. And then it dawned on him. "Oh."

"Trust me."

"I do...but that's not what I meant," he protested as the arrived at the library.

"What did you mean then?"

"I was wondering if you...liked..."

"Draco and I are friends Harry, that's all, and if you're worried about that changing...well, don't," Hermione replied softly and went into the library.

Harry knew better than to follow her unless he wanted to be enlisted for help on a project he would be a dreadful research partner. So he shook his head in a bit of confusion and headed back to the common room, wondering what he was going to do about Ginny.

**A/N:** Next chapter will be...whenever I get the time. D: anyway, reviews are cool.


	8. Big Changes

**Author's Note:** I own nothing, though I wish I did. Sorry I've been gone for so long. I'll have more free time soon so I'll hopefully update more often and hopefully finish this thing.

**Draco**

Hermione was late. Hermione was _never _late. Up until now, Draco had always assumed that she had never even learned the meaning of the word. She had always managed to be completely early to anything she had ever gone to. In all of his memory, she had never once been less than five minutes earlier than everyone else. He admired that part of her, because they shared that sense. He was never late by his own means, at least not that he could recall. If he was late anywhere, it was because he'd been involved with a nasty altercation; the latest of which usually included Potty and the Weasel. Someday, he swore to himself that he would be rid of the incomprehensible idiots. Apparently, though, he would end up waiting until he was on his deathbed.

So, he had arrived fifteen minutes early to the library, trusting that Hermione would make an appearance shortly thereafter. Exactly 16 minutes later and he was starting to worry. Sure, she was just a minute late, but he had already convinced himself she was at the bottom of the lake, or worse, with Potter. By the time the clock hit five after the hour, he had walked angrily to the front of the library, and had begun to pace at the entrance. How could she keep him waiting like this? There was no way for her to tell him she wasn't coming, and he didn't much like the idea of working on their project on his own. Who was going to be there to tell him he was wrong about how they should add the dragonroot elixir? How the bloody hell was he supposed to know how long to brew the potion? Hermione was the only one with that kind of information stored away in her small, bushy cranium. He didn't really want to, but if it came down to it, he would admit that he was nothing without her...at least when it came to Potions. Sure, he was brilliant, but compared to her, he was rubbish. _With_ her, on the other hand, he felt like they were geniuses. _So I need her, so what_, he chided himself, trying to keep it together._ It doesn't make me weaker_, he insisted to his subconscious. But even his subconscious knew he was lying to himself.

Somehow, she had gotten under his skin and now, he needed her. He didn't know how she'd done it, and at this point, he hardly cared. He just wanted her to pay him the attention he needed, and he wanted her to get her little butt over to the library before he did something really irrational. And since Madam Pince was getting anxious from his incessant pacing, she had better get to the library soon or she'd have hell to pay for the disappointment boiling inside him.

And what did she expect from him? He depended on her, and expected her to be trustworthy. He was taking this way too personally, he knew, but as soon as he saw her bushy hair appear just around the corner, he was ready to jump her bones and chastise her like a child for being late. He was totally ready to, but the words caught in his mouth. He had to keep himself in check. He was supposed to lure her in, not become a pansy in the process, but based on her appearance, something was on her mind. When Hermione Granger had something preoccupying her she was both easier to prey on and more pitiful. It made Draco feel even more guilty. Today was the day he needed to seal the deal: in both senses of the words. She made her way over to the library entrance, and he composed himself, ready to take this meeting to another level.

"Do you have _any_ idea how late you are?"

She looked up at him and rolled her eyes. "Ten minutes, goodness Draco, you look like someone just killed your bird."

"It's not a bird, its an _owl_. _O-w-l_, remember those?" This time, he rolled his eyes at her nonsense. It felt good to tease her a little; it lightened the mood and gave him time to think clearly about how to approach the situation.

"I'm a cat person."

"Clearly," he replied, eyeing a piece of cat hair on her shoulder, and brushed away the urge to pick it off her robe. He knew she wouldn't like it without even asking her. "Anyway, I don't have all day, so next time, do our project a favor and don't be late."

"You know," she retorted, eyeing his unopened books sitting on the table once they reached it, "you could have done some work on your own. All you needed to do was copy the pages over."

Draco wanted to kick himself. He should have known she'd be mad. Her anger would make this all the more harder; if she riled him up, he'd blow it. Either that, or it would go unexpectedly well. Since he hadn't exactly chosen a side yet, he decided to play it casually by ear. He'd set up the bait and if she didn't take it tonight, then he had more time left. Or at least, he convinced himself that he did. He pushed down the urge to sneer, and instead, settled for an annoyed sigh. "But that's _your_ job."

It came out more as a whine, and she chose to mimic him. "Then what do _you_ plan to do tonight, hmm?"

Draco's mouth hung open. He didn't know how to reply.

"Cat got your tongue," she asked, smirking.

Did the conversation have to go back to cats? Well, I'll roll with it, Draco thought, processing a smart retort, but all that came to his mind turned out to be rather sexual, and he wasn't sure he dared go down that road yet. She was waiting for a response, so he bit his lip and smirked again. "Oh, I was thinking something only a twosome could manage..."

For a second, she looked confused, and then he watched her process his meaning. To his surprise, she slammed a large book shut, and grinned. "Not a threesome?" Her eyes batted innocently, and Draco secretly felt the urge to gag while something in him also stirred. He wanted to grab her and kiss her, and he had no idea why. His mind had gone blank with rational thought, and his mouth wanted to do anything but form words, so instead of stuttering, he grabbed the book from her hands.

"Don't tempt me, " he drawled, burying his face in the book. He heard her laugh then she planted herself into the seat across from him and dragged more books and scrolls from her bag. She kicked him a few times under the table, pretending to be having difficulty carrying the books up from her bag on the floor, but he kept to his reading, getting braver by the minute. Soon, he couldn't take any more of her teasing, and he handled it the best way he knew how: with more remarks. "Someone's a frisky kitty," he smirked, internally resenting the cat metaphor.

"Again with the cats?" Her remark agreed with his own mental disgust, and he instantly decided to speed this up.

The evening needed to go well, and based on their banter, it would go better than he planned. So, he dove head first into their assignment, copying as much as he could. They worked in near silence for two hours, exchanging nothing more than a few words when one asked the other for a book or a scroll, or to double check something they were scrawling all over the parchment in their hands. Finally, as the clock rang for 9:30, Draco set down his quill and stretched. His hand hurt, and his eyes were tired, but it was the kind of tired that he enjoyed. He felt accomplished, and based on the way Hermione had a smile at her lips, he could assume she was pleased as well.

"We're making excellent progress," she said, as she began to pack her things. "I'm sure this week we'll begin the brewing process."

"Oh? Are you sure," he asked.

"Oh yes! Aren't you glad we took the time to research how the first potions were made and such? It made the rest go so much faster."

Her bright smile filled her whole face with glowing happiness, and he couldn't help but catch it. "Easy for you to say, _I_ did all the reading," he joked, packing away his things. Her eyes fell on him as she fell quiet, and he wondered what she was thinking. It was an interesting idea for him to be interested in someone else's thoughts, and it kind of scared him. He knew it meant he was getting too emotionally involved, and for his job, that wasn't a good thing. He didn't want to be doing this anymore, but he had no choice. But he felt guilty about feeding so much information into his mind for the sole sake of someone removing it for evil purposes; but he had nothing to save himself from it. So he did what any guy in his situation could do; he let the feelings in. He rationalized himself by assuring his mind that his heart would help him down the road, even if he knew it wasn't true. Sure, he'd get her to talk, but at what cost?

* * *

Perhaps it was the way Hermione looked in the moonlight coming through the windows, but as he walked her back towards the Gryffendor commons, Draco wanted to kiss her. Her hair glistened as the moonlight shined on it, and the darkness of the corridors made her long lashes look even blacker. He hadn't noticed at the start of the year, but more and more, she seemed to wear makeup. He loved the way she looked without just a little mascara curling her lashes and the palest hint of blush on her eyelids. It made her eyes look even larger, and now, they sparkled every time the light hit them. If he leaned in at any moment, he'd cross a line he couldn't recross. He'd be going somewhere into new territory that there would be no way out of. If he was going to do this, he'd have to do it soon; they were almost to the portrait. He knew he couldn't follow her any further, so he searched for something to stall the moment.

He was so scared to do this, but the corridor seemed deserted, so, he touched her elbow as she sped up. "Hey, hang on a minute."

She looked at him oddly, the wariness plain on her face. "What?"

"Look, I know this looks, and sounds weird, but just give me a second. I need to do something."

"Do something?"

As her eyebrow raised, Draco knew that had probably come out wrong. Still, he had to persevere; it was now or never. So, he looked down at her as she looked questioningly up at him, and took her chin in his hand as he leaned down to kiss her. When she didn't pull away the second his lips touched hers, he immediately felt relief wash through them. He pressed his lips softly to hers.

It was a chaste little kiss, unusual for him, but he had liked it nonetheless. It was meant to be that way. If he had done anything more, he probably would have scared her more than he had just managed to. She seemed frozen to the ground, staring up at him. Her utter shock was slowly morphing into confusion, so Draco chose now to be the time to run the other way. "Goodnight, Hermione, " he whispered while he was still in close proximity to her, and then turned on his heels and quickly walked away, leaving her right in front of the Fat Lady's portrait, her fingertips at her lips.

A/N: Okay so it's short, but its an update! Any suggestions?


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